


The Ghost's that Haunt Us

by Androids_in_Metropolis



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Tumblr Prompt, ghost story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-24 13:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4921723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Androids_in_Metropolis/pseuds/Androids_in_Metropolis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Veronica held JD tightly as the bomb beeped the last few seconds by; She didn’t know if it would hurt, and she hoped to God that it wouldn’t. She was trying not to think about what she was doing, trying to tell herself she deserved this. </p><p>She wanted to die with JD, and she deserved to die; They both did. They had killed a bunch of people, they deserved this...there was no other answer. </p><p>Beep!</p><p>Beeep!</p><p>And then everything was on fire and nothing hurt and she was flying, and JD was crying, but they were together and didn’t last long and as soon as the last beep! came to her ears, and she knew the bomb was about to go off she was blacked out. Everything was over now…</p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p>From a tumblr prompt I resieved: okay but jronica mix of ghost au, modern au, and reincarnation au where veronica died with jd and was reincarnated so she's 17 in 2015 and her family moves to ohio and jd is haunting her house as a ghost, she also meets martha and heather mcnamara when they're older and shit and basically something like that????? idk i would like to write it myself but i don't have the time and i'd like to see how someone else would write my own story</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, disclaimer; The characters belong to the scrip writers, the prompt belongs to the anon, and just about everything else is mine.

Veronica held JD tightly as the bomb beeped the last few seconds by; She didn’t know if it would hurt, and she hoped to God that it wouldn’t. She was trying not to think about what she was doing, trying to tell herself she deserved this. 

She wanted to die with JD, and she deserved to die; They both did. They had killed a bunch of people, they deserved this...there was no other answer. 

Beep!

Beeep!

And then everything was on fire and nothing hurt and she was flying, and JD was crying, but they were together and didn’t last long and as soon as the last beep! came to her ears, and she knew the bomb was about to go off she was blacked out. Everything was over now…

\--------------------------

“This is our new house, honey!” Veronica’s mother said oh-so-enthusiastically. Veronica frowned, looking around; The house was decrepit. It looked like it had just come by time machine straight out of the 1980s; The yard was awful, covered in pink and white roses and perfectly cut green grass. Her mom would love it. 

“It’s awful,” she replied, trying to keep her voice monotonic. Her dark eyeshadow making her eyes appear heavy lidded as if she were stoned, though truth be told, she was the most straight edge of teenage emos. She’d never even smoked a cigarette. “Where’s my room?” she sighed, shouldering the first of her bags, nodding to her dad as he began to shift her boxes towards the stairs, instructing her to follow him. 

She smiled for the first time since she had received the news that they would be moving to middle-of-nowhere Sherwood Ohio; Her room was in the attic, already an old four poster bed in the room, rusted in patches and giving the proper spooky squeak as she sat down on it. The house might be sickeningly cheerful, filled with ‘retro’ colour and patterns, but at least her room was nice. 

She dropped her bags, hugging her dad. 

“Thanks,” she mumbled into his lapel, looking around the room over his shoulder. Ther rafters were showing, the plaster white washed and peeling in places, and the floor was all hard wood. It was smooth with age, and a honey colour. She felt her dad awkwardly hug her before pulling away and helping her finish moving her things in before moving on to the rest of the house. It was his way of letting her know he cared for her, and that he was sorry he had made them move. She was grateful for that. 

By the end of the day they had finished moving in, the house nearly in working order. Her mother’s meticulous organization and cleaning making the move as smooth as any move had ever been. They cooked that night, eating off their own plates around the newly moved in kitchen table, talking abou the drive and the food and the weather...all the normal, average, family stuff. Veronica was pleasantly disinterested, quietly happy that nothing much had changed because they had moved states. 

That night, sleeping in her new-old bed in the new-old attic room she thought she saw a face in the window; It was the face of a boy. He looked eerily familiar, though she was almost sure it was no one she had ever known. She felt almost like she had known him in a previous life, but of course, that was bullshit. 

The wind was whistling outside, and she hoped it would be raining tomorrow. Maybe the first day of school would be better if it was raining. Rain was Veronica’s favourite state of weather. She hated the sun that made everything seem so bright and cheery. Cheery was for fools. 

 

She’d done her research on Sherwood high school; It had been the scene for three murders, and a dual suicide in the 80s. Two of the teachers were actually girls who had been there when it had happened; Had, in fact, been friends with the murderers who had later killed themselves in a sort of suicide pact. She was honestly excited to go to the school. Veronica loved ghost stories, she liked the cheerful morbidity of them. She loved grave sights and the scenes of crimes...it always got her thinking. 

She fell asleep, ignoring the face in the window; It must have just been the lighting reflecting off the window, nothing more. 

She dreamed was was herself, but a long time ago. She had always lived in Ohio, she had a beautiful boyfriend, she had crazy best friends and then she was the crazy one...she woke up as she pulled the trigger.


	2. Day Two

Veronica went through the motions that day at school; She introduced herself, stood in front of the class, raised her hand as little as possible, did the pop quiz, swallowed her pride and asked questions for things she couldn’t quite understand. 

She was a Junior, but she felt like a freshman. She was lost in the halls; She had to ask where the caf was. She didn’t know the teachers, or any of the other students. She started to wonder why she was there at all; Sure, the school had a cool history, but what’s history compared to the present? She was exhausted and irritable by the time she walked into her biology class after lunch and saw her teacher. 

It was Mrs. Martha Dunnstock. 

She was the best friend of the girl who had blown up outside the front of the school in the 80s. She was the same girl who had done all the interviews, crying, explaining over and over that she had fallen away from Veronica and that she should have warned the girl that Jason “JD” Dean (the mastermind behind the plot to blow them up). She was a rather large, dark woman. She had bright eyes, and she looked genuinely excited as she introduced Veronica to the class;

“Class t-this is Veronica,” She said, her voice loud and clear despite her stutter. Veronica wasn’t really paying attention; She was busy wondering what a funny coincidence that she was also named Veronica Sawyer...that she lived in the same house of said Veronica (though it had a few owners in between herself and the original Veronica). She wondered why there hadn’t been any pictures of the original Veronica on the net…

“Please introduce yourself, Miss....” Mrs. Dunnstock looked at Veronica expectantly, her eyebrow raised. She wasn’t sure about the last name, Veronica realised, and she quickly jumped in. 

“Sawyer, my name’s Veronica Sawyer,” she said, her low voice coming out even more gravely that usual, a lack of use throughout the day leaving it sounding deep and sensual. “I’m seventeen, and I come from New York. I moved here for my father’s job-He’s a scientist-Yesterday,” she explained, keeping her eyes steadily on the back of the room, her blank stare more off putting that reassuring. 

“S-Sawyer?” Mrs. Dunnstock stuttered back, her eyebrow raised. Surely this child was pulling her leg (not an unusual experience).She couldn’t seriously be named Veronica Sawyer...and look the way she did. She looked just like she would have thought her Veronica...Her Veronica Sawyer would have looked if sedigh school. 

“Yes, Sawyer. Says so on my birth certificate,” Veronica quipped in reply, suddenly feeling more energized. The confused and...afraid? look on Mrs. Dunnstock’s face confirmed the thought that had slowly been growing in the back of her mind; She was like the original Veronica. She thought she might be crazy-There were no pictures of the original Veronica on the net, but Veronica had had a creeping feeling that she must have looked just like her. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew. 

“Well, Uh, Veronica, please sit down.” 

The rest of the class was uneventful, the biology lecture going over Veronica’s head as she sketched out her theories about the original Veronica in her notebook. She would admit it; She was beginning to become a little obsessed with the mystery and familiarity that shrouded the death of the students at this school; First had been Heather Chandler. She had died via draino. It had been a suicide, but for some reason, Veronica didn’t quite believe this. Why would someone like Chandler-By all reports the Queen Bee-Kill herself? 

Then came Kurt and Ram; Two football player, supposedly killed in a double suicide to protect their hidden gay love affair. Again, it just didn’t add up in Veronica’s mind; Why would they kill themselves if they were in love? They were popular; Surely they could have lived, prefered to live, and change things? 

Lastly came the final two deaths; The toppers for the cake, if you will. Veronica Sawyer and Jason Dean. Veronica had been popular, according to all the articles and interviews, she had friends. She was in love, too, and that’s where the trouble had cropped up. 

Jason Dean...according to all records he had been the son of one of the most notorious serial arsonists in the country. He had been handsome, a social outcast. He had a beautiful girlfriend, and he had left behind plans to blow up the school...in the end though, it seemed he chickened out, instead inviting Veronica to die with him as he performed his final trick; Blowing himself and his girlfriend to smithereens in front of Westerburg high, leaving a manifesto behind to condemn society and all the students… 

The rest of the day sped by, her homework collected, study hall taken, students avoided and introduced. It was a whirlwind of a day and she found herself sighing with relief as she dropped her things and fell into bed, jumping back up with a startled scream as she felt something distinctly human shaped beneath her. 

“Holy shit,” she shouted, jumping away from her bed, falling over the stack of books she had piled in the the corner of her room. The shape shifted and suddenly...it was gone. She walked towards her bed, slowly lifting the blanket and flipping it back, her breath held. Nothing was there…

She sat down carefully on her bed, her breath shallow. Something was very strange about this house, about the whole town. Something left an acrid taste in the back of her mouth, a shivering feeling in her spine. Something wasn’t quite right-Hold that, distinctly wrong, with this. Something was wrong with her…

That night she saw the same face in her window, the same face that hadn’t been in the paper way back when when they had run stories on the bomb outside Westerburg high. She had never seen his photo-She didn’t know why there were no photos of the two teens-but she knew what she looked like. She saw his face now, ghostly pale, looking down on her. She was too tired to get up and investigate, half in a dream already. She put him in her dreams that night, reliving the news stories again and again, and more; Killing someone, pulling a trigger on a jock, watching her best friend die…

She woke up in a sweat at two-thirty-three am; She was shaking, immediately feeling as if she had been watched while she slept. She looked around her, seeing the face again, a body attached. He was watching her...this didn’t make her feel as uneasy as she thought; She felt calm enough, almost surreal as the boy (she knew she was a ghost. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew he was) walked forward, his feet making no sound. He sat beside her, wrapping his arms around her, laying his downy head down on her shoulder. 

“You came back, darling,” he whispered, his voice oddly high pitched and gravely at the same time. He was holding her tightly, though she almost felt as if she couldn’t feel him. He was there...but he wasn’t. It was unnerving, but she wanted to be with him, a strange pulling feeling tugging at his heart. 

“I knew you would,” he whispered, still holding her…

“Who are you?” she asks, turning slowly to look at the boy. He was pretty...his face round and childlike, his eyebrows arched in a villain-like manner. “Who are you?” 

“Darling, don’t you remember me?” he asked, sounding genuinely hurt. He was still holding her, more tightly, his fingers boney and cool against her skin. “Don’t you remember? Veronica...my darling, chaos killed me but you survived; You were born again, while I, I’ve been waiting,” the figure explained. 

Veronica lay back down, sure she was dreaming, falling back onto her bed, the boy falling with her. She fell back asleep, his raspy whisper in her ear, explaining a life she was almost sure was hers, but at the same time...it didn’t add up. If she was indeed the same girl who had died more than 20 years earlier, how was she alive now? How was she here? 

This boy, she was sure, was the ghost of Jason Dean. She knew she was in love with him...she didn’t know why, but she was. She knew he was real; Even if he wasn’t, she was crazy...he felt so real. 

She fell asleep to the sound of his singing; 

“Seventeen, can’t we just be seventeen…” 

Her dreams were strange; Again, again, again...shoot, bullet, fire...boy, boy, girl, death, death, death...she was dead. He was dead. They were dead...dead...dead. 

Her dreams were strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review?


	3. Days to Months

“You came back,” the boy whispered, leaning easily against her window frame. His slight build and large eyes were captivating, and Veronica couldn’t find it in her to scream; This boy wasn’t supposed to be in her house...who had let him in? His eerie resonance to the boy who now frequented her dreams made it even harder to be afraid. He was so kind….

“Came back?” She questioned, her voice hollow and strange even to her own ears. She had a strange aching feeling in the pit of her stomach; It was a feeling she was growing accustomed to. Since her arrival in Ohio more than a week ago it had settled over her-A feeling of being absolutely alone, like she was missing something that should have been hers but wasn’t. She had the strange feeling that this boy would tell her something...something that would solve the feeling, explain it. 

“From the dead, darling,” he told her, his eyes flashing as he pushed on the window and sauntered over to her, wrapping his arms around; It sent shivers down her spine, though the weren’t unwelcome. They were arms she often visited in the night, though only in her dreams, she thought. “You were killed…” he whispered, “I killed you.” 

The words weren’t shocking; She was unsurprised in fact, keeping her face carefully blank at the news. She was the Veronica Sawyer...she had been right; Everything was falling into place. She felt familiar in this boy’s arms. 

“D-Don’t you remember anything?” the boy asked, suddenly seeming unsure, his grip on her tightening though it remained oddly ethereal. “Anything at all, darling?” He sounded like he was about to cry, his voice shaking. Veronica wanted so badly to make him happy, though she didn’t know why. She didn’t like the way he seemed so broken at hearing she didn’t know, though really, it was something she so easily believed that she must have known somehow. 

“N-No, nothing...It’s true though...you, you’re a ghost,” Veronica stated, phrasing it like a question, though it obviously was not one. She knew. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew. She turned awkwardly around in his arms, wrapping her arms around his thin shoulder (he was solid...but dead. How?). “Tell me,” she offered, leaning her head gently on his shoulder. 

She didn’t know why she felt so familiar with him, why she was okay with his touch and believed him so easily. It was confusing; She shouldn’t believe him so easily. After all, was there any such thing as ghosts? Reincarnation? It all seemed rather far fetched, and even if there was, didn’t that make this boy a bad person? Make her a bad person? 

‘I think I’m a good person,’ she thought, her heart thudding quickly in her chest, the blood rushing to her face. 

“No,” the boy replied, sinking away from her, seeming more scared than ever. “I don’t want to..you shouldn’t have to know. Veronica, please,” he begged, his tone pleading, “you must understand. I am not okay, I’m not okay...That doesn’t excuse it, but, Oh, god...you really don’t remember?” he asked, a look of total anguish on his pretty, baby-like face. 

Veronica shook her head, sitting back on her bad and watching as the evening sun shone through the curtains pinned to her slanted window. It left strange shadows around the room that suddenly felt menacing, hostile...The boy (he must be...he had to be Jason Dean) was shrinking into himself, sitting on the floor, his arms wrapped around his legs. He was wearing a plaid shirt, a pair of ripped jeans. He looked like every other teenage boy, but of course, most teenage boys weren’t supposed to be dead; Most teenage boys hadn’t thought about blowing up a school, convinced their girlfriends into murder...suicide. Veronica knew the story, but she couldn’t quite conjure up ‘memories’, just feelings and the news articles she had read. 

She knew she should be mad at this boy, Jason, but she couldn’t quite do it. She couldn’t quite be mad at him...She loved him, she realized, even though this felt like the first time she had ever really met him. 

“Jason?” she asked, her voice wavering as she slid off the bed and wrapped her arms around his shaking shoulders. “Jason. Jason, I know the story, Jason. I...I don’t blame you,” she whispered, though she wasn’t entirely sure it was true. She did blame him; But she loved him more than she hated him at that moment. She wanted him to feel better…

He shifted, burying his face in her shoulder and she felt his tears seeping into her shirt, a cool wetness. She wrapped her arms around him, wondering what all this meant; Why were they given second chances? Why? How? Who would want them back? They had killed people...killed them! 

When she pulled away there were no traces of his tears on her; It was as if he wasn’t touching her at all. 

\--------------------------------------

She continued going to school every day, watching the days slip past. She didn’t make friends; she didn’t need to. She would come home and lay with Jason, watching the ceiling, whispering to each other, talking about everything. She noticed subtle differences in him over the months; He was growing older with her, and she allowed herself to wonder if this time around they could actually be happy together…

She asked him if he was a ghost, and if so, why he was solid. He said he was, and he had no idea. She asked him if he wasn’t just human than; 

“No, not human. I’ve been here since we died, waiting for you. I couldn’t leave, and I couldn’t feel, or eat, or leave the house until you came. When you came, I became real again. I think, I think if you left, I’d go back to waiting for you until you came again…” 

That had sent fearful shivers up Veronica’s spine, causing her to draw herself closer to JD and wrapping him more tightly in her arms. She didn’t know why, but everything he had just said seemed ominous, scary, unwelcome. What if something happened to her? What if she left him waiting again? He would wait forever and she might never come again…

She wondered why they had been given a second chance at all; THe thought kept her up at night, left her shaking in bed. Left her wondering why...over and over in her head; Why why why why. She had the constant nagging feeling that there was something they had to do, something that would let them live happily ever after. There was some mission...they just had to figure out what it was. 

“What is it we have to do?” she had once asked Jason, absentmindedly holding him to her as they sat on her bed watching some new release that neither of them was interested in. They were eating snack candy, Jason enjoying the sensation of being able to eat again. 

“Do for what, darling?” he asked, turning slightly to look her in the face. 

“Do to stay together...people don’t get second chances for nothing,” she told him sadly, trying to think of a single example where the word had given humanity a break and let them get something for free. She could think of exactly never. 

“I don’t know,” he replied quietly, wishing she would stop talking. He didn’t like to think about the fact that someday he would have to give her up again, that something could happen at any moment that would drag them apart. He didn’t like to think that he would go back to being nothing more than a ghost; Reliving the pain his life had been. When he was alone, before Veronica came back, he was constantly reliving his life with his father...how sad he had been, how angry he had been. It had been torture, his own little branch of hell. The real world was a relief, and though those feelings were still there they were so much easier to push away when Veronica was there. “I don’t know.”

Veronica dropped the subject, though she knew the thought wouldn’t leave her. She didn’t want to cause JD any more pain. She would never understand why he had done what he had, and she didn’t think he would either, but it was clear he didn’t want to think about it. He definitely deserved a break; He had served his 25 years. 

She made a mental note to start snooping...maybe actually talk to Martha and Heather (the living one). She could find things out from them that she couldn’t from JD. Find out what had happened over the time she had been gone, what was going to happen. Maybe they knew why she was there, why she was alive and well. Maybe they had all the answers...she doubted it, but maybe. There was always a perhaps, always an answer for a way out. 

She let herself watch the movie again, leaning easily against JD, falling easily back into life and her future; Their future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review :) It makes my day.

**Author's Note:**

> Review?


End file.
